


Draco and the Up-side Down Stone

by i_amtheoutlaw



Series: Draco [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Situational Humiliation, Sub!Draco, slight blood play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:55:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amtheoutlaw/pseuds/i_amtheoutlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after Potter rescued Draco from the <strike>evil</strike> spider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco and the Up-side Down Stone

Draco was on his knees where he’d been for the past hour, with his mouth shut and his limbs bound behind him.

“Draco,” Zabini practically purred. “My wife grows suspicious, you know. Of this supposed other woman.”

Draco couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Something funny?” Zabini growled, but didn’t bother rising from his chair. Still Draco wisely stayed silent this time. 

“This is all your fault,” Zabini drawled next and, even though Draco knew Blaise was far from upset with their arrangement, the tone sent a chill down his spine. 

“Yes, sir,” Draco replied and it was Zabini’s turn to chuckle. 

Suddenly all was paused by a knock on the door. Draco frowned while Zabini sighed and retreated through the kitchen. “I’ll get rid of her,” he called over his shoulder. 

A very bad feeling began to grow in the pit of Draco’s stomach. The only person who ever stopped by unannounced was Luna, and Draco had believed they’d come to a silent agreement that she wouldn’t come knocking when the stone on his porch was flipped upside down. 

“Fuck,” Draco heard Zabini say and then Draco’s whole world came to an abrupt halt as another deep tone rang through his flat. 

“Er - is Malfoy here?” asked Potter.

“Well,” Zabini started and Draco closed his eyes tightly for a moment. He could hear Blaise about to fuck him over in that one little syllable. “Yes, Potter, Draco is right this way,” he finished. 

Draco didn’t even try to move. He knew Zabini’s conjured ropes would hold, he knew this all too well. 

“I _fucking_ hate you,” Draco called and regretted the words the moment they’d left his mouth. 

“Me?” Potter questioned, a second before Zabini strolled in with Potter following right behind him.

“No, me,” Zabini answered proudly, ignoring Draco completely. He sprawled out across Draco’s sofa. “Please, sit, Potter,” he said and gestured toward his own purple chair. “Would you like something to drink?” 

But Potter was still staring at Draco, horrified. Slowly he drew his wand. “What’s going on?” he asked, not looking anywhere in particular now. 

Draco couldn’t answer. He just stared down at his traitorous cock which still hung heavy and hard between his legs. Potter had been staring at it. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Zabini drawled, unconcerned. 

Draco felt Potter’s eyes on him again. “Why is Malfoy tied up and … tied up?”

“Because he’s a vulgar little whore and that’s how they liked to be fucked, Potter,” Zabini replied smoothly.

Draco hated Zabini. He hated himself, too, for staying so hard with all four of Potter’s eyes roaming over him. 

“What the hell happened to his face?” Potter growled suddenly and all the lumos in Draco’s flat seemed to turn up with the sound of his voice. Potter gasped and had to visibly stop himself from taking a step toward Draco’s form. 

Potter’s wand was trained on Zabini in a flash, but Blaise, the smug bastard, was already floating what Draco presumed was their contract parchment toward him. Cautiously Potter took it and began to read. 

Draco watched the understanding light his eyes, piece by torturous piece. Potter took in a large gulp of air after finishing, but didn’t comment for a long moment. 

“You _want_ this?” he hissed, incredulous, when he finally said something. 

He was looking straight at Draco’s traitor of a cock again. 

Directly probably would have been better word choice there. Draco chuckled at his own thoughts and met Potter’s gaze. 

Draco gasped, his eyes seeking the comfort of his floor once again, and he nodded mutely. 

“Oh, shit, Potter,” Draco heard Zabini say, seeming amazed. Though suddenly his voice sounded very far away. “Do that again.” 

“Do what?” Potter questioned, sounding louder than ever. 

“Please,” Draco whispered and Zabini finally seemed to realize just how far his little ploy had gone. Hours or minutes later Draco felt strong arms around him and smelt Blaise’s cologne wafting through the air. It was dreadful, but Draco felt himself smile slightly and lean into the embrace. “I fucking hate you,” he moaned. 

“I am really sorry, Draco,” Zabini whispered. “You always said I didn’t have enough control for the job.” 

“What else did I say?” Draco smirked, closing his eyes as Zabini laid him on something cloud-like. 

His own bed, Draco realized as he snuggled into the softness as much as his restraints would allow. 

“I will be back, Draco, I promise.” 

Zabini did return and Draco smiled again. Then Blaise did some very indecent things with his tongue, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut, succumbing to the pleasure.

Green, his saw green, and Potter was there in baggy muggle trousers and white shirt, like the first time they’d met. Only this Potter had more hair everywhere, it seemed. 

The pleasure left him and only then did Draco realize he’d been shouting Potter’s name. Suddenly something was gagging him until he couldn’t make a sound and the pleasure came back.

Draco exploded from the mere tenderness he felt for Zabini in that moment, when he opened his eyes and found the other man between his legs. 

Then Draco broke because he just wanted to turn over and be covered, but leave the bed at the same time, and he couldn’t speak and there was a mess all over him. He felt his face screw up but, by the time he began to cry, the offending things vanished and Draco was being dressed and covered and held. Eventually he stopped.

Draco slid from the bed as gracefully as he could manage. “I’m making tea,” he announced, not quite meeting Blaise’s intense gaze. “Coming?” 

Zabini arched a brow. “I thought you’d be in denial,” he said carefully. 

“Is there any point?” Draco asked, sighing. 

“I suppose not.” Zabini gestured toward his own bulge. “I will be out there in a minute. Are you still making cookies?” Zabini was still treading lightly. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Only if you hurry up, you oaf,” he said and took his exit.


End file.
